Funny That Way
by TigerLilly1995
Summary: When Lennox leaves home one night, in a fit of anger, she never comes back. Her sister and brother all but drop their lives to find their protective older sister and beloved twin. Two months later they get a call from Damon, saying he found her... broken and bleeding and left for dead in a back alley. Who took her, why did they hurt her and, more importantly, what did they want?
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome fans and fellow fanfictionists! I hereby declare you... I actually don't declare you as anything. You are just very welcome readers of this new fanfic I'm starting. And yes, if any of you know my from earlier stories, surprises: I'm not just part of the Transformers fandome! I also very much enjoy the Vampire Diaries. So let's get the ball rolling here, shall we?**

**This is something of a plot bunny and once I started writing, the chapter sort of wrote itself. And YES, it IS another one of those stories, and I KNOW how annoying it is to have stumbled upon something that is practically its own genera now, but I have put my heart and soul into this and I promise to try to make it as different from the rest is possible. But I can't do that without you, my lovelies, so I will need a grand favor from you: when you get to the very bottom, please fill in the appointed box titled 'review' and tell me how you took the first chapter and whether or not it's worth continuing. This CAN be a stand-alone thing and stay a one-shot, so if no one likes it, I will leave it at that. If, however, I get a good, informative, reviews, I will continue. I am not just looking for "sounds good " - although that, too, I welcome; just as anything else. I am looking for praises, criticisms, likes, dislike, questions, comments, concern, want-to-see's, and so on. anything that you expect of this story, and thing you think I should improve. Please let me know, because though I am quite happy with the chapter, I am, just like you, learning.**

**Anyhow, this several episodes into the first season, as I had a hard time coming up with an excuse about why Elena never mentioned her sister to _anyone_. Even so, I hope this story didn't have such a typical start as I had tried to look into the character of Lennox, and not the events of the Vampire Diaries just yet. Don't worry, it will all come very soon - just not yet. I now introduce to you: Lennox Gilbert; tomboy with an attitude, stuck in a reforming home, trying to put her life together. She is... actually, on second thought, I won't describe her to you. I'll make it a challenge: let's see how many of you can get her personality right in the reviews. It will help me see how good I am at the "show, don't tell," thing.**

**Disclaimer: I will only say this once, because I am bound to forget: I own nothing but Lennox and whatever impact she may or may not have on the original events.**

* * *

**Funny That Way  
By TL**

* * *

_"Now don't you understand that I'm never changing who I am?"  
_- Imagine Dragons

Lennox Gilbert wasn't so much a cold human as she was an indifferent one, rarely finding it in herself to care for any one thing or person. It was something of a rule – a motto – the sole exception being the immediate circle of family. After all, it was simply human nature to treasure loved ones. She had her own set of rules and guidelines to life, her own principles and beliefs to live by – very little could move her or sway her choice once it was made—her stubbornness both a gift and a curse. Naturally, she often found herself turning a blind eye and living life for what it's worth, taking little to no time for anything that held her up in her everlasting strive to see everything, experience everything, and live everything first hand. She _was_, after all, the main character in her story, there to save no one. She was her own knight in shiny armor; she was her own fairy godmother; she was her own leprechaun. The last time something big enough happened to make her stop and think about her actions, her decisions, and their purity was too long ago to recall now.

She had a good childhood, loving parents, and close friends; she was truly unsure where her level of indifference and distance had come from. She had all a child could ask, wanting for nothing at the most of times. Her distance from the social world was an anomaly at the best of times. Her mother had told her, time and time again, the girl was like a river: clam on the surface, but fierce as she was protective – a bunny with the heart of a lioness. She was told she destined for greatness. Lennox had never believed her, preferring the calm of her life to the tragedies heroes constantly had to endure. You had to work long and hard to get what you wanted – it never just came to your doorstep, wrapped in a bow with a note of "Use me wisely." The talks of destiny were nonsense.

Some mystical force was not going to command her life, writing it out for her as one would a story. Her life was hers to manipulate, to wield, to build and shape to her desires and she be damned if she let some 'fate' or 'destiny' to arrange her days as a deck of playing cards. She was the one in control; such was her belief and she swore it would remain so to the end.

However, this so-called destiny had her own plans, and Lennox was no exception. The girl would meet her end, and it would be the pivoting point in her family's life. This was set in stone, no matter how hard she tried to change it.

* * *

**(Lennox's POV)**

If I had to name one thing that bothered me, it would be stupid people – the kind of people who ask the most obvious questions, the answer to which they should be able to guess in their sleep. But they ask anyway, making both themselves and me look like idiots. It was questions like "Where are you headed to?" that made me want to turn and shout "We are on the same damned flight; where do you _think_ I'm going?" Alas, it was not meant to happen, as I had enough sense of self control to just put on a tight, polite smile, and give them the state I was on my way to, providing no more unnecessary information to a perfect stranger. I suppose by this point I should have gotten used to answering questions like that, and dealing with the snobby kid in the seat behind me, kicking at my back for the entirety of three hours, and promising he would stop if I showed him my boobs. I had been on enough planes to have made them a second home – especially as of late.

However, the series of trips from Rome, to England, to France, and then back to Malibu, USA in the span of three weeks left me at a boiling point. My pot was spilling over the edge, the water simmering angrily as it hit the red-hot element and bubbled into evaporation. I may not have been here in over two years, but I had a very insisting feeling that I would note every detail of the place, and detest it more than the last. Maybe it was simply my exhaustion speaking, but I knew for fact that I could not take another hour in the air without going mad. So I fixed the headphones resting around my neck back onto my head and drowned out the noise with another song by U2, hoping we make touchdown shortly. I pulled the window shades down after a while, hiding from view of the night as I got sick of the firefly canopy that is the United States at this hour. I had insisted flying second class, lest to draw unwanted attention, and after a long verbal battle, I had won on the condition that I take a limo on the ride back home. After all, I couldn't embarrass the family so much as to be seen in a cab – not that anyone would even recognize me.

But of course, I had caused enough public trouble to take any more chances. If it were their names they wanted to keep clean, who was I to object? They _had_ taken me in, didn't they? I owed them that much and I would do well to pay it off no matter how much it annoyed me to have ordinary drivers turning their heads at the intersection, to stare at me, suddenly prejudice of what I thought of myself. It may have been so that I was above them back in Malibu, but I was home now, despite how much I didn't want to return here. I was home, and with just as much wealth – or lack thereof – as anybody else. That and I didn't want to make my family awkward. I hadn't seen them in person in a good two years, so to say I missed the normalcy of being a part of something small and precious, and so very cozy was understatement of the year. Landing in a first class seat, all made up and beautiful would just make explaining everything to them that much more uncomfortable, especially given the fact that it was about as far from 'me' as Jupiter was from Venous.

I didn't hear it, but when my eyes flickered to the notification screen above me, the seatbelt light was glowing orange. I unhesitatingly locked myself in place, eager for the landing procedure. Of all flights, takeoff, landing, and turbulence were, by far, my favorite – they were also all that really happened during a flight, which could be described as memorable. The rush of adrenaline was unlike anything else – except for maybe skydiving and speeding at twice the limit on a motorcycle. Moments like that were the ones where you really stopped to consider that you may not get out of it alive, and when all of your regrets flashed through you mind, you could pick them all out and place them on a list, and fix it all up once the adrenaline gave you a moment to take a breath of air. You can remember all of your mistakes and fix them, remember all you wanted to do and do it. You can make up for everything you've missed.

The plane banked and I sucked in a breath, heart pumping faster and faster as we began our decent. I gripped that armrest, whitening my knuckles in the process. I had waited for this moment for the past three months, the trip being a present for my eleventh year in school. We settled all expenses with several child care programs and they eventually let me go back to live with my family. I was originally sent to live with my distant relatives somewhere down the line two years ago, more for boarding school than anything else. Mom hopped it would teach me some responsibility. We had a falling out, and she put her foot down – stomped it, more like – and shipped me off southwest, to California to attend a Catholic school under the supervision on my… I got this: the uncle of my third cousin twice removed. They had recently won the lottery, against the odds, and were suddenly super rich. My dad had asked – insisted – that I go live with them for a while. With Charlie's military past, he would, theoretically, make me a more responsible person – between curfews, harsh, as well as long-lasting punishments, and a Catholic boarding school, he had almost succeeded. Almost.

I found a lot of cleaver ways to get into trouble without actually getting in trouble with him. I became a good girl. But really, what's a good girl? It is a bad girl who never got caught. If the past two years had taught me anything, it's that there are plenty of ways to cover up the morning after a wild frat party. The last time I got caught was the time I woke up in the morning with my hair died a radiant pink and yellow. I was just not cleaver enough in my excuse, so I admitted to throwing a party for a few of my friends, and got grounded for three months. No TV, no cell phone, no friends-overs. From there on out, I vowed to myself to never drink enough to let someone talk me into altering anything on my body in any way, shape, or form.

And now here I was, on my way back home after avoiding the trip for nearly a year. But recently the absence got unbearable. Maybe I did miss being compared to big sis, and maybe I did miss hanging with her pals all night, playing the drinking game, and maybe I did want to be blamed for every little thing. I just hadn't decided yet if it were really so, or if that was just my homesickness talking. The one thing I did miss was the low population of fifteen thousand, and the ability to sneak out of the house in the middle of a particularly rainy night with no shoes on, and run until my legs fell off. Just taking in the bliss of wet cement and the beads of water pattering against my skin as I forced my legs to take me away faster, and faster, and faster. I would run until I got to the town limits – the bridge – and just sit on the railing, feet dangling aimlessly over the edge as the river roared angrily at the falling water; bubbling and rushing and spilling over the banks. On a good night, when I noticed a car nearing, I would push myself over the edge and disappear in the black of the water, coming up for air some fifty yard from the bridge and struggle to swim back to land.

I didn't know if I could do that now. I just hopped I wouldn't drown in my sorrows as soon as I saw my house. I had avoided going back for such a long time for a reason it had weighted me down for months. Only now had I gathered the strength to go back and face the world with a bright smile on my face. After all, in the words of Dean Winchester, the most difficult phase in life isn't when no one understands you; it's when you don't understand yourself. That right there is some real deep stuff. I mean you just gotta smile sometimes. You smile till the week's out, 'cause it's the job – because you have to convince everyone that it's all alright. Then you smile again, and again, and again until you start believing it, too. And then everything really is alright. And then nothing can hurt you anymore.

I look down at my left hand, the charms on the silver chain shaking with the airplane as touches down, bounces one, twice, thrice before sticking to the paved runway. Welcome back to Virginia, Lennox; I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for… just as soon as you figure out what that really is. A lighter, a flask, the Colt, a five-point star in a circle, a bottle of salt, a dagger, a silver shot, a shovel, a set of angle wings, and what is supposed to be a '67 Chevy Impala. All of that fits on a length of silver rings, attached together and fashioned into a charm bracelet – or rather, a fangirl charm bracelet.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica," I muttered to myself in Latin, voice rising in octave as the sentence progressed. The man next to me looked at me sideways, eyebrows knitting together. I didn't look at him, knowing full well that if I did, he wouldn't like it very much. As we slid to a stop, I played with the charms on my wrist, smirking at the memory of how I had spent three hours forcing myself to suck it up and enter the tattoo shop. It hurt, but was worth it; now I wear the five-point star in a circle of flames proudly on the back of my right wrist. The major league fangirl inside me began to stir, waking up at the thought of warding symbols and badass guns and rock bands that had long since become the heart and soul of my TV obsession – along with old cars and Latin.

I got off the plane, swinging my strap bag over my head, lest it gets stolen, and pushed through the crowd aimlessly until I found the escalator and looked out over the crowd of people until I found the exit, where a limo should be waiting for me. The audible thud of my combat boots made me turn around uneasily at the impression of another person following my every step and I mentally slapped myself from being stupid: I'm in an airport – people come in and come out every second. Of course there is someone following me; they just aren't _following me_ following me – they're heading their own way, going about their own business. I suppose a show about things that go bump in the night did nothing good for my fear of kidnapping. I got to the bottom of the escalator before I saw her in the crowd, waving her hand maniacally over her head in dying attempt to get my attention. My face lit up at the sight of the blonde and I pushed the people before me out of the way as I picked up my hurried walk into a run. I was beaming, alight by the time I was in arm's reach, so I threw myself at her, wrapping my jean clad arms around her neck in joy.

"Jenna!" The woman in question stumbled back, struggling to catch her footing, arms shooting out as she wobbled in place.

"Wow there, kid; what's gotten into _you_?" she asked, taken aback by my enthusiasm. I scoffed at her confusion, finding it unnecessary.

"What, I'm not allowed to be excited to see my aunt? You hurt me." She laughed, hugging me back as people passed by, muttering something about how rude it was of me to shove them; I successfully blocked their voices out and just closed my eyes, taking in this bit of home in my arms. The pins and buttons covering the front of my shoulder bag jingled against each other as people bumped into it and us. Inside were my essentials – passport, ID, driver's license, my cell phone, and so on. "I should be asking what's gotten into _you_; it's like three in the morning!"

"What, am I not allowed," she said, mocking my tone poorly, "to pick up my niece at an airport bigger than our whole town? You can get lost in here quicker than in a maze!"

"Well it only took me ten minutes to find the exit, if you hadn't noticed; and I found _you_ without of even knowing you were coming!" I defended, crossing my arms in mock hurt and putting on the best superior face I could muster. It crumbles to bits as I get a mental image of how ridicules I must look, with my punk cropped hair and leather clothes and ridiculous contacts. I ordered contacts in color…and they send the wrong shade. Now I looked like a fish more than I did like Megan Fox. I pursed my lips tight and wrapped my hands around the army green strap of my school bag tightly, letting my arms hand lazily on either side, held up by only my hands at the solar plexus. All of these were defining factors that put me on opposite side of the spectrum with my sister. Many think that having a twin is all that. I thought it sucked. There was a countless amount of challenges that come with looking like someone. My eternal struggle to create something that would define me as uniquely _me_ had, so far, come up fruitless. On my unending quest to show myself as a separate person with a separate personality, rules, beliefs, pleasures, _identity_, I had come to meet exactly four people who understood it and appreciated it: Jenna, Charlie, his nephew Eric, and my grade seven English teacher. Even mom and dad refused to look at me as anyone other than _her_.

Don't get me wrong: I loved my sister dearly, and I would gladly jump in front of a train for her, but "Elena is this," and "Elena is that," and "Lennox, why can't you be more like your sister?" were things that made me want to grab a kitchen knife and stab myself in the face. Why couldn't I be more like her? Because I _wasn't her_ is why!

"I see you stepped up your game and cut your hear," Jenna noted after a fraction of a second, grinning at the new look. I combed my tanned finger through it sheepishly, smiling to myself that she noticed and approved.

"Yeah… it was getting in the way, so I had it cup." Or at least that's what I told Charlie. The real story was that the gals from school and I broke into the school after hours and headed to the basement where a party was being hosted. I got drunk, grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut off my hair in the bathroom on a dare. It turns out not half bad, given that I can't remember much of what happened next, what with the amount of alcohol I had consumed. I didn't even remember how I got home that night. All I know is that it was thankfully a weekend, so it went unnoticed that I spend an hour locked in the bathroom, worshiping the toilet bowl. Then I took another pair of scissors and made my hair look more like it was done in a salon by a professional, not in a school bathroom by a drunk teen. In the end, I liked it better short, so I kept it. I pin extensions into it now and then, depending on what is my favorite color at the time.

"So how did you like Malibu?" she asked, leading me through the ocean of people towards the exit. I hooked an arm through hers, smiling wildly as we ambled – most likely angering anyone walking behind us.

"Well… Erik was alright, I guess. He was so funny when he got hi… hired at that one place," I save poorly, just missing the word 'high' by a fraction. That didn't stop Jenna from giving me a disapproving glare, her eyes narrowing. I continued, in hope to draw her attention from the subject. "He's a smart kid when he isn't thinking about cookies and boobies; more immature than Jeremy at times, but cool overall. Charlie, though, was… let's just say we didn't see eye to eye at the best of times." One of the reasons being that the man was a good foot and a half taller than me, and the other being that his sense of humor and good times had died in a sewer somewhere on the other side of the country. But I don't tell her that. She'd only question what it was that I did that made him angry and _that_ was not an answer she was mentally prepared to hear. "But I missed all of you so much! I can't believe mom and dad made me go away!"

"Don't pretend you don't know they had a good reason to do that," Jenna said sternly. I frowned.

"Ok, I got into some trouble… with the cops…" I trail off, thinking of a defense. "But it isn't like anyone got hurt!" I threw my arms in the air, accidentally hitting a woman walking by. I shot her a "Don't you get started with me, woman," look as she opened her mouth to accuse me, and she instead decided to scold me to herself, muttering things about how I need to learn some respect. Sure she would be right, but I was not going to apologies for her walking too close to me. I was not in the mood to get lectured by a stranger about manners.

"You were arrested for break-in and entering," Jenna accused, pointing out the very reason that sent my parents over the edge with me. I ducked my head in embarrassment, remembering how Mrs. Forbes found me, sprawled on the floor of a convenient store, bawling my eyes out over a cut I got while I was breaking in. In my defense, it was a huge gash in my arm and by the time she found me, I could barely feel my arm at all. The reason behind what I had done was actually revenge. It was uncalculated, poorly planed – impulsive – and I deserved getting caught. At first I said that because anybody who tosses a boulder at the front door to break in deserves to be caught. It was a month later that I finally accepted that what I had done was wrong and come to accept my punishment. Not to say I wasn't angry with dad's cruel and unusual form of punishment, but I had come to accept that I was not making anybody proud of my in the least by committing petty threat and vandalism. If anything, I was humiliating my family. So I decided I would never openly do that again. I loved them more than I could say, so I worked harder than I ever remember to be the good girl they always wanted me to be.

They never got a chance to see the woman I had become. Sure I was still a wild party gal and I drunk underage and broke speed limits, but I did that for fun, not out of spite. And with all that, I pulled my life together, got my grades up, found a stable job, and began volunteering at a hospital. But mom and dad never got to see any of that. They never got to see me accepting an honorary award from the principal at the end of the year, never got to see me stay up all night not on the phone, but in my study notes, never got to see me join the swim team and win a bronze. They never got to be proud of their little girl.

"I was trying to get their attention," I mutter, hanging my head but forcing it up again. It was heavy as a rock.

"Well you sure succeeded. And then you never saw them in person again."

"Yeah, well… they ordered the wrong uniform size," I remind her. "I think that was punishment enough. It was two sizes too small; I was the school slut for, like, three months!" I exclaim, trying to defend the last bits of honor I held. Jenna sighed, shaking her head at me. "Need I remind you how it squished my boobs together and the skirt was _way_ too short? It was _embarrassing_." She laughed now, at last, at my comment, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling. "Oh and by the way, I hope you came here by bus, 'cause they got a limo to take me home."

Glass doors slid open and I greet the night air. I had taken off at nine, flew for three hours across three time zones, and landed at three in the morning. I wasn't tried in the least, though, eager to get home, back to my sister and kid brother. We talked over the phone, and web chat, and Skype, but it's been forever since I'd seen either of them in person. A good natural hug was long overdue. I mean, last time I saw Jeremy, he was still collecting Hotwheels cars, jumping up and down hyperactively over Transformers, and stealing magazines with boobs on the front page – although I doubt he had outgrown that last one by much. If anything, his urge to see naked girls had only increased.

The night awaiting us outside was alight with street lamps and projectors and cars, the sound of a plane taking off in the distance roaring over the commotion of the early morning. Just yards to the right was a short line of five limos, each with a man standing outside, holding up a piece of paper with a last name printed on it. Third one from the back held up a 'Gilbert' at his chest. I sighed. This was going to be embarrassing.

"Well, looks like this is where we part," Jenna said, turning to me and pulling me into a hug. I smiled as I wrapped my arms around her back, closing me eyes in serenity. "I'll meet you back at the house."

"How?" I ask, wondering how she would get there before us. In the ocean of parked cars behind her, I couldn't spot her car no matter how much I searched. She would fall at least ten minutes behind. We pulled apart and she told me, "Tell him to take the long route." I nodded firmly and gave her another quick hug, then ran back to the waiting limo. The driver opened the door for me and I jumped in before anyone could see my face – although I doubt there is even a two percent chance there is someone here who actually knew me. I was in the dark again, the tinted windows blocking out the world and soon after, the limo got into motion, pulling away from the curb and taking me away into the night. For a moment, a hundred kidnap scenarios went through my head, of how someone might have gotten word of that I was going to be here and killed the real chauffeur and took his place and is now taking me to some dark and went basement where they will beat me and then film me and send it to the distant relative who have housed me for the past two years. Then I think about how it could be a demon that will slit my throat and use the blood to call his boss, and say a few sentences in Latin, just to be sure. The driver doesn't as much as squeak, so I let it go.

I was in for a long drive.

And a long drive it was. After a good two hours, we finally pulled up at the front yard of a sleeping house. I had sent my luggage ahead, but seeing as they got a four day's notice, I wouldn't be surprised if it was just sitting in the living room, gathering dust for a while. I push the door open before the driver could do it for me, and step out into the hot night air. Back in Malibu was hotter, but even though the temperature here was at least five degrees lower, I was still waiting to be cooked alive in my sheets at night. I got out for the limo, but stood rooted in place, watching the ghost house as though it might come to life and reach out with its carpet tongue and eat me up alive. I shiver at the memory. Kids' movie or not, watching Monster House was a big mistake: I slept with the shutters closed for a months after that.

What if they didn't want to see me? What if they hated me for not calling in months? What if they wanted nothing to do with me and had officially disowned me? What if they thought I was heartless and cold and selfish and too lazy to even pay my respects? What if they replaced me with one of their friends? Worse yet: what if they didn't even remember me at all? What if I showed up at the front door and someone else was living there? What if they decided they would rather move than have to deal with me all over again? What if they think that I hadn't changed at all? What if they think I'm the same pain in the ass I always was? What if…? I don't even know what else could be 'if'!

One minute passed, and then another, and another and soon it were a good five minutes of standing in the street, looking at the house that had once been the home of five. Now it was the home of two, and a temporary resident that had moved to Virginia upon hearing the news, to take care of her niece and nephew. Was it even my home anymore? Was I welcome to come back into it? Were they waiting for me or anticipating me? After another five minutes, I forced my legs to move, ungluing my booted feet from the curb and taking one step, then another, and then another until I was walking down the paves path that lead to the front door. The stairs creaked under my feet and I was surprised at the sound. Nothing creaked at me for a very long time. Everything was always too expensive and sheik to make a sound. But the stairs creaked. It was strange to say the least. Did they creak before I left as well? Were the rails this dirty, sickening shade of white? Did the pillars supporting the canopy always this… _ekh_? And since when did we have this stupid American flag to the left of the door. Was that there before? It was too big, and out of place in the face of the paper white walls. I was happy here once; I was welcome and tolerated and loved. Now it was a stranger's home, as alien to me as I was to it.

I swallowed and rang the bell, knowing I was waking everyone up. When Jenna didn't open the door at once, I knew I still beat her here. She must have got caught in traffic – _God_ I hope she got caught in traffic. The alternative was an unbearable thought. I rang again, not daring to touch the handle. How had I become so alienated with my own house – the house I grew up in? No answer for another minute. Alright, now I was pissed. I pressed my lips in a tight line in utter annoyance, and shoved my finger at the doorbell time and time again until I heard enraged footsteps coming down the steps. I didn't stop until the door flew open.

"_What?_" was the sharp, tired, furious answer I got. There stood a girl which her hair a tattered mess, the dark strands covering her shoulders and face in an infuriating way and I resisted the urge to brush my own hair away from my back as I remembered that my hair no longer fell down it in a glossy chocolate curtain. Instead, it was an 'I just crawled out of bed' jet black mess on top of my head. Her purple tank and matching plaid sorts were pulled up her body, her eyes asleep despite her awakened form. "… Who… the hell are you?"

I scoffed at my welcome, crossing my arms in mock hurt. "_Gee_, sis; I _love you too_," I hissed between my teeth. Her face remained wrinkled in the lack of sleep for a good half a minute before it began to melt into recognition, and then surprise. Well, it's about time my own blood recognized me when she saw me.

"_Lennox_?" Elena asked, just to make sure she was seeing right and her eyes weren't playing a trick on her. I dropped my arms from their lock at my chest and spread them to either side.

"In the flesh." She screamed and slammed the door in my face. I jumped three feet in the air and took a careful step back, eyes falling out of my head. Did… that seriously just happen? Of all reactions I have come up with – shouting, accusing, hitting, hugging, silently standing there for five minutes, or just smiling – this was not one of them. She surprised me again when the door flew open with her looking much neater; her hair combed through with her fingers, her clothes straightened, and her eyes wide awake. She screamed again and threw her arms around my neck with a choking grip. I froze in place, unable to respond. I had expected her to be angry with me, to not want to see me, to hate me for what I had failed to do. But she just screamed a lot and slammed the door in my face, then screamed some more as she suffocated me in a death grip. I was rendered immobile for what felt like forever. Then my frozen heart and mind began to melt and I slowly, cautiously, wrapped my arms around her, unsure of how I should respond. Would she pull away and slap me? Would she just stand here until she fell asleep? I really wasn't sure about her anymore. There was a time where I could read her like an open book. Now, though, I was afraid of what she will do next.

"Are… you alright?" I asked finally, my voice breaking like thin ice and I was suddenly drowning in a frozen river, the cold sucking the oxygen out of my lungs and the merciless current taking me away, dragging me under the ice and stealing away any hope I had of coming up for air, or to scream for help, or do anything but die alone in the cold. And nobody would ever find me. The river was claiming me in its icy clutches, just like it should have, months ago. I should have been the one bringing her home from the stupid party. Instead I was on the other side of the country, fulfilling my prison sentence that was boarding school. I failed to be there for my family when they needed me most, and now it's broken.

I smile, a sad, longing smile, and try to force myself to believe in it just as Elena would any moment now. I pushed any regret I had out of my eyes and put the bright joy in them instead, covering up for the loss with a row of pearly whites that had taken me two years of braces and five thousand dollars to acquire. She pulled away and saw nothing but the joy I felt, seeing her.

"Lennox, I didn't know you were coming _tonight_," she told me, smiling brightly as she dragged me after her into the house by the arm. I barely got the chance to close the door behind me and the next thing I knew was that I'm shoved down onto the couch. "Why didn't you _call me_?"

"I _did_ call," I remind her. "It's the six- the _seventh_," I correct, remembering the early hour of the next day. "You are the one who can't keep track of dates. You keep _everything_ on your phone, while _I_ to remember the highlights of the month. _Don't_ put this all on my, girl," I told her, unable to help the grin spreading over my face.

"Well I _can_ put it on you that you woke me up very rudely. Have you _seen_ the time? I think you have five in the morning confused with five in the evening." I rolled my eyes at her openly, tilting my head to the side as though to say 'girl, _please_' as she plops down on the couch next to me.

"And what was with the screaming and slamming the door in my face? I mean I know I cut my hair, but does it look _that bad_?" Elena laughs full heartedly, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"Are you kidding? It looks _cool_. I mean, definitely not something _I'd_ be seen wearing, but that's a style only you can rock like you couldn't care less. And did you really expect me to great you looking like a pissy troll? I looked _awful_ coming down to open the door! I forgot to make a Welcome Home party – what kind of sister would I be if I came down to greet you looking like I slept in the dump as well?" she demanded, brushing a loose strand of iron straight hair behind her ear. It only reminded me further how much I used to hate my long hair and how much I knew I would regret it once it was gone. I detested it getting all over my face and down my shoulders and back, and when I slept, I always had to brush it off my back, over my pillow. In the morning, I was greeted with a disgusting maze of fallen out hair in the space between the mattress and the headboard. It was outrageous. The short hair was both a great addition to the tomboy look, and a relief of its pestering habits of getting in my food, no matter how much I tried to tame it and pull it away from the front of my head.

"A… Welcome Home party?" I asked, just to make sure I heard her right. A _Welcome home party_? Was her _serious_? My brain short circuited. A _Welcome Home party_? Did _her_ brain short circuit, too?

"Lennox, I hadn't seen you eye to eye for _two years_. Drop the act and accept the party. I'm hosting it tomorrow night, and you are coming if I have to tie you up and drag you, missy," I scrawl, but know her well enough to say nothing more. "Anyway, you're here to stay for the school year, so expect this to be the generous introductory to what is to come. You are _not_ leaving me hanging again."

"When did _I_ ever leave you hanging?" I demanded, lazily sinking into the couch, my weight making the leather cushions sag. "If I remember correctly, you were always the one with the date, and I was the one to go lonesome, in honor of single people on Valentine's Day."

"If… _I_ remember correctly, you started a parade for singles people on Valentine's Day." I crossed my arms as she leaned against the back of the couch on one elbow, resting her temple on her knuckles.

"Yeah… _that_ was by accident!" I defend, starting to laugh at the memory of people marching down the street, chanting "I'm single and I know it!" Some of them were even holding up banners! "May I remind you that I _ran_ and _hid_ once I realized what I had started? It was by mistake!"

"_What_ is with the _shouting?_" I heard Jeremy grumble from the stairs, his heavy footfall pulling us both out of the argument. "Elena, it's five in the morning; what the he- who are _you_?" A soft rumble echoes in my throat as I glare angrily at the wall. You try to differentiate yourself from someone and end up unrecognizable altogether! Were people genetically programmed to assume that I was a carbon copy of Elena in every aspect of life, or was that just the added bonus of having a twin? Everyone thinks that it's this amazing thing to have a twin. I think that it is the bane of my existence, out to ruin my life and everything in it with its stupid prejudice. The past two years have been a blessing: no one knew I had a twin, no one tried to compare me to some family member, and no one expected anything of me! I had been back for all of ten minutes, and the only immediate family I had left had failed to recognize me. Had I been gone for _that long_?

"I missed you, too, bro," I groaned, twisting around at the waist to face him, a scrawl plain on my face. I saw his own face light up in the dark and he launched down the remaining three stairs in a single jump and all but _ran_ at me. My eyes went wide at his speed and I threw my arms up to protect myself. Next I found myself under what felt like a mountain, crushed into a bear hug from what must have been Emmet Cullen.

"Lennox, you're back! I thought that you're tomorrow night, though." I groaned my annoyance. Way to spread misinformation, sister dearest. Really feeling the love there, I thought bitterly, and then proceeded to hug my kid brother back, unfazed by his reaction in the least. While I was unsure what Elena would do, I was predicting his answer to my showing up at the front door for the past week.

"Slow down there, King Kong; I missed you, too, but _I need to breathe_!" I wheezed out at the crushing weight of him. Since when was he this heavy? Last I remember, I was giving him piggy back rides! No, wait, that was five years ago; two years ago, he was beating my in arms wrestling. Two years? Oh boy: I _had_ been got for a long time. I hadn't realized just _how long_ until now. But of course, I swore to myself that I wouldn't cry. I just hugged my kid bother as tight as I could and relished in this unbroken moment where I was really, truly, undeniably _happy_ – something I can't say I felt in a long time. I was with my family again, and it was whole… or as whole as it ever would get. And the only person we were missing was the person who walked through the door as soon as I thought she was absent.

"I know I said I'd meet you home, but I ran out of fuel half way here, and had to call a tow truck," she informed, not at all taken aback by the scene in the living room. I snorted at her excuse, but lifted up an arm over the edge of the couch to invite her into the hug. Instead of choking me some more by hugging me, too, she took my hand in hers tightly. "I see you've already been greeted," she said, a smirk clear in her voice despite the fact that I couldn't see her.

"Ok, Jer, I'm dead serious: Get off." He did as I instructed, and I took a deep gulp of air, back arching off the couch as I took a breath of oxygen. I sat up, pulling myself upright using the back of the couch and looked around at three smiling, warm, welcoming faces. They were so familiar, so safe, so dependable, so _loved_. And for the first time in a very, _very_ long time, I felt home.


	2. Chapter 2

**So the first chapter ****was received**** better than I expected – with three reviews, four favorites and TWELVE followers! OMG, guys, THANK YOU! – given the overused idea, so I decided to just roll with it. I have a rough idea of where I want this story to go, but this ****is going to be**** a long multi chapter with no **_**distinct**_** plot line. It's does follow the series, so as you can imagine, it maintains ****_that_**** line of events, but I decided to focus on the human element of the show because let's face it: it's like poor Matt is the only human left alive in Mystic Falls. This fic is more about that element of innocence and family than it is about becoming a vampire and living happily never after, because the Vampire Diaries doesn't have happy endings and everybody dies. This is more catered on the sacrifices and deals and ultimatums that the characters face, and the decisions that may or may not have tragic outcomes.**

**Now, as you may guess, Lennox is unaware of the supernatural realm, and as any human, you can expect her to react rationally and look for reasonable explanations for everything. She ****_will not_**** be let into the circle of The Know for a little while, which actually makes it very fun to write, simply because she is just that oblivious :) Also, I'd like to thank those of you who reviewed and favorite and followed this story! Because you took the time to say a few words to me, I will take the time to say a few words to you as well:**

Wilhelm Wigworthy: I tried my best! It's so hard to find something original on this site anymore, because there is just _so much_! I'm glad I succeeded in making a good first impression! I hope I can keep surprising you :)

Crazy4Oreos: Again, thank you so much! Here is some more for you to enjoy! I hope you didn't get into trouble with anyone with that screaming, btw ;)

JollyLoser: Well in that case, I truly do hope to hear what you think of this chapter as well. I sincerely hope that I satisfied :D

* * *

**Funny That Way****  
****By TL**

* * *

_"Don't know what you're expecting of me."_  
- Linking Park

After my family had completed their questioning on how my life was in Malibu and what I had done over the summer break, I seriously began to consider whether I should have just taken Elena up on her offer and wrote a diary. Although on second thought, it would have been l lot easier to document everything and spend several days turning it into a film. After all, I did take an AP class in film making and marketing. I could have easily just made them a video loge documenting all of my memories. Doing so would certainly have saved me an hour and a half of being interrogated dry and exhausted of information. By the end, I have managed to satisfy their curiosity and I was falling asleep. Where I had cut their sleep short but ringing the doorbell like a maniac and shouting, I, myself, hadn't a wink of sleep at all last night. So when I finished telling the tale, it was at least six in the morning and after I made a remark of how I had stayed up this early once, I ended up hurting myself badly when I fell down the stairs half in sleep, they let me go. Elena had told me that she had taken all of my things to our room so I followed her upstairs down the familiar, yet alien stairs that were a delicious shade of brown, but wrong altogether in some way I couldn't name. In her room was a surprise I was not ready for: she had redecorated.

"I… see you missed me dearly," I said dryly, looking around the room. She had removed ever bit of technology that had belonged to me, my half of the room now bear of its posters and collages, the boom box and stereo missing from their designated corner and my eclectic guitar was not hanging on the wall. Instead, a probably fake painting of a horse had taken its rightful place. She did always have a strange sense of decorating, and the retro beauty that this room had once was, was now a wilderness of pink and drowns and yellows and shades of tan. My bed was gone entirely, along with Elena's old one, now replaced by a queen sized bed in the left middle of the room. It was dreadfully undone in her forgetfulness to fix it when I arrived at the front door at almost five in the morning. The curtains, too, she had changed, going from neon and eclectic blue and purple to a soft pink that was so _Caroline_ and I wondered how much of a hand the bubbly girl had in destroying my bedroom and turning it into something you'd see a princess sleeping in.

"I love you dearly, my beloved sister; but there is no way in hell that we are sharing a bed," I remarked sarcastically, shifting my weight to the right and crossing my arms at my chest. I would _not_ sleep in the same bed as her, and if this was _my_ room, there was no way I was sleeping in it, _period_. Elena only laughed; not in mockery, but in amusement.

"Oh, no, no-no; this isn't your room. After you moved out, the gals and I moved all of your stuff to the basement. Mom and dad finished it, so your room is downstairs. And before you complain, the air conditioning is _actually working_ down there, so I'd trade you bedrooms any day." I nodded slowly, forcing my brain to put together her words into something I can understand. So… I now could take the basement all to myself? I couldn't say I complained: I did always want a room for myself in this house. I just never imagined that I would be sleeping downstairs.

"So… While I was gone you were _that quick_ to move me to the most distant, off-limits part of the house to show your love for me," I said grimly, looking over the room that was now for one person – and that person was not me. Elena shot me a scolding sideways glance from under her lashes, shaking her head at me a fraction, as though to say "Don't you start." I narrowed my eyes, but said nothing about it. I didn't need to argue with her now – not after I had been back for all of two hours. I wasn't a fan of being sent away to the farthest corner of the house, but I didn't let my stunned shock show. I just covered up for it with a victorious smile as I tried to find the up side to all of this.

"Perfect; when the rest of my things arrive, my computer lab and studio can actually go somewhere that isn't the attic. I'll have to repaint, most likely, because let's face it: mom and dad probably finished it to look like Caroline's room, and I cannot disgrace myself so much. But overall, it'll alright," I mused, thinking out loud to myself. "Well… except for when the laundry is on. That's just gonna be downright creepy." But hey, laundry room to myself, my bathroom, my bedroom – I don't have to keep my mess to a selected area in a single room. It'll be great – just like back in Malibu… and wherever else they dragged me off to for summer vacation. It will be... lonely. Who was I kidding? I missed my family and I returned home, just to find out that I was moved to the basement! I couldn't even lie to _myself_ and say it didn't hurt a little by that.

I mean, they were my _family_; my flesh and blood. If roles were flipped I would... ok, that's a lie: I would do the same thing. If Elena got herself into a mess like mine, I'd kick her out of my room, too. It'd serve her right for what's she'd done to the family. But it was still not fair that I was sent to live in the basement! It made me feel like some sort of abused kid in a foster family that hated me with a burning passion. I let out a frustrated breath and shook my head. "Oh Elena... what have you done with my masterpiece?" The girl in question snorted openly.

"Masterpiece? More like monstrosity! What kind of room was that? That wasn't a room, Lennox; that was an _explosion_! I _saved_ this room, _not_ the other way around," she defended, crossing her arms for further exaggeration. I took my three suitcases – the only three that had arrived already… out of a good dozen. Most of those, though, were boxes and crates, filled with fragile tech equipment, musical instruments, and other things that differentiated me from her. But clearly, the world was somehow blind to it all. Even my own sister couldn't appreciate my taste for what it was: _mine_. Maybe I should just give up altogether and go back to following her around like a shadow, copping her every move to a mirrored accuracy. Maybe them everyone can be satisfied. Better yet: maybe then my parents could be proud of me. After all, she was the one they wanted, and I was the added bonus that came some fifteen or so minutes later. She was planned, and I was not. It never made me feel any less loved, but the thought was, inadvertently, always at the back of my head.

Maybe if I were more like Elena, as everyone truly wanted me to be, they can finally get the daughter that had always wanted me to be. I can go back on the cheer team and join the leadership comity and whatever other club Elena and her gals were part of. I can be an overachiever like everyone I publicly hung out with and maybe then the Gilbert family can have a child in their family tree that they would be ashamed of. I took all of my things downstairs and looked around as the light flickered on. The basement really had been finished, the place looking brand new and beautiful. What I found downstairs surprised me, to say the least. Despite what I may have imagined – the absence of a bed, just as the years that passed, bare walls, a dusted over, fake fireplace that had been sitting in that corner for over ten years. I was looking for a set of couches, some of my junk lying around, maybe a TV, if I were lucky. What I found coming down the stairs made me miss a step and tumble down the last three stairs. My heart jumped to my throat and I shrieked, arms flying out to either direction as I dropped my luggage and desperately tried to catch my balance on the railing – which was a fine wood, coated in what appeared to be boiled oil. It was glossy and sleek and shone in the lights that lined the ceiling. The soft carpet which covered them broke my fall drastically as I braced for the impact of cement steps karate chopping me in half. They didn't, and the collision that followed wasn't painful as I had expected it to be.

I let out an, "Oof," as I braced myself up, doing a chin-up against the rail, and got to my feet, one foot on the tan carpet of the floor and the other still on the stairs. Elena was at the top of the flight in point two five seconds, hands over her mouth and her eyes all but falling out of her head. "Oh my God; Lennox, are you alright?!" she shrieked, running down in a horse-like, thud-thud patters. I barely heard her feet hit each stair. This was already a lot better that I had expected. She was holding my up by the arm in a second's time, supporting my weight but I brushed off her concern with an assuring nod of my head.

"I'm…. I'm fine. I was just… not looking where I was going," I covered up, wincing internally as I straightened up, expecting a stabbing ache in my back but found none, and looked around. The sight of just the basement lobby made my breath stop in my throat: overhead was a square, concave ceiling, small, round light lining the perimeter, each of them pointed in a different direction for maximum light distribution. The ceiling itself, a soft milk coffee shade, lit up as though in the sun, giving off a soft, beautiful glow of pale yellow. To the right of the stairs was something of a living room, the nearest corner across was lined with a seven-seat leather corner couch – including the corner seat itself – a chocolaty brown, with a large, square footrest to match standing a foot equally from either side. At the far edge of the couch laid two pillows, one a greening gold, lined vertically, and the other a mahogany, in golden, four-point stars. Above the couch, on the wall across to the right was a large, three by two foot Chinese painting – also most likely fake, but who cares? – of a cherry tree, completing the look perfectly. It fit wonderfully on the face of the beige wall. It was _so warm_ to look at. Not hot, like the summer morning, and not like the beach, either; it was a comforting, cozy kind of warmth – a safe kind of warmth.

I stepped off the stairs and slowly ambled around the railing, to get a better look at the living room. On the wall covering the view from the stairs hung a plasma TV, just like the one on the main floor, sitting against the face of a bricked wall. On either side was a casing with three shelves, each holding different things: a wee connect, the speakers, the remote control, a vase, a family photo of the five of us at an amusement park that we went two three years ago, and a round, orange bowl of candy in golden wrappers. The ceiling above it was littered with four lights in a zigzag pattern.

I let out a shaking breath. This was…. Wow. 'Wow' was the only word I could come up with that described the simple, yet super pricy design that went above and beyond what I would expect to see. Directly in front of the stairs was a sister room to the one I stood motionless in, the style of décor matching, but not totally identical. That one was the home of a _huge_ bookshelf, holding dozens of thick books that appeared to be series and tomes of a handful and genres and groups, as well as a large version of glass – two clear and two iced – chess knights, a large photo of a pug squishing it's adorable face into the camera lens, and a row of seven small, linked statues of dancing stick people. They reminded me of the seven dwarfs a little, only without the pickaxes and funky hats. The bookcase lined the back wall, leaving before it two woolen couches, a light tan in shade, facing each other, with a matching, linear footrest separating them – a sort of light coffee, place green and orange in shade in vertical, uneven waves.

"We spent last Christmas down here," Elena said, startling my out of my gawking, making my jump out of my skin.

"God _damnit_, Elena: don't _do that_!" I shrieked, turning to give a "what the hell?' face. She smiled at me a sad, guilty smile. "We…" she began, then cut herself of for a moment, looking for her words. "… We had a bunch of people over. It was a lot of fun. And they were all wowed by this, too. So don't worry, you aren't the only one to have her mouth fall open at this," my sister assured, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off instinctually, regretting the action as soon as the familiar warmth was gone. But I didn't need to be babied. I was a big girl: I could handle myself. So, keeping my emotions in check, I walked slowly through the… reading room, I guess I can call it, examining the photos lining the walls. Mom, dad, me, Elena, our kid brother, Jenna, John… we were all on the walls, laughing and smiling and posing and teasing each other. I swallowed my tears, drowning them just as I had so many times before, and blinked rapidly to rid myself of the wetness of my eyes. I didn't need to cry. People died. This was a fact. I had to get through the five stages of grief to the end, to acceptance, and live on. I had my life to live, I had my life to _prove_ – I had to do it for them. They may not have ever seen what I had become, but I would live by their word anyway. There really wasn't much I could do but live on. I couldn't bring them back, and I couldn't take their place. Time can't be turned, so I have to accept and live to honor their memory.

Nevertheless, I reached for one of the eloquently framed photos with an ever so slightly quivering hand and ghosted my fingers over the wooden boarder in fear that a wrong movement might make the photo and the memory it held fade away into nonexistence. "I… remember this," I said under my breath, more to myself than anyone else, but Elli answered anyway, with a light hearted chuckle.

"Of course you do." She came to stand next to me, smiling at the moment of happiness frozen in time. "You kept falling and getting scratched. By the end of the day, I don't think there was a part of you that you _didn't_ shred to bits."

"_Mommy! Mommy, look at me!" a small girl called out excitedly, waving a small arm over her head to catch the attention of her mother. The chocolate hair ten year old placed one foot flat on the board and pushed off the ground with the other. At last, the sudden movement didn't drag her back, off her skate. She pushed once, twice, thrice before actually moving a noteworthy distance. Albeit, Lennox had hardly left the solid ground to place her other foot behind her first, and gravity dragged her back down, the wheeled board slipping from underneath. She fell on her tailbone with a loud thud, the air leaving her lungs instantaneously as her back collided with the cold paved road. She let out a whimper, but remained silent. Instead of bursting into a shower of crocodile tears as the first time that day, with grumbled her frustration in replacement curse words and hissed in pain._

_Her mother didn't so much as stand up from the porch, having learned hours ago that her daughter wouldn't let herself be touched by another. Every hurt is a lesson, she'd told her mother, and each lesson makes you better. Her mother had band reading for three months after _that_ quote, and restricted every book her child read to something with at least one picture._

"_Have you tried _not_ falling?" Lennox's younger brother questioned, flying by her mockingly on his own skateboard, arms flared out for balance. He glided past her with a grace and ease she swore she would acquire if it killed her and the young girl glared after her kid brother in envy._

"_It's not my fault you're a full of yourself, you little twit!" she called out loudly into the night as Jeremy laughed at her, maneuvering into a pivot so he could face her from a distance. "And stop making fun of me! I'll be way better then you before the week is out." The boy only laughed._

"_Sure you will," he mocked sarcastically, giving her a mocking nod. She pouted as she got up, finding her skateboard and getting on again, ready for nothing try. Her scabbed hands stung as the patted them off on her shirt, wincing at the action The rest of her family – mother, father, and sister – watched the two bicker childishly, enjoying iced lemonade on the hot summer night as Jeremy and Lennox competed in a rather one-sided fight for the first place._

It was a good night. I shred my hand and knees to grated cheese, but eventually was able to stay up on the skateboard long enough to make it count. Ever since then, Jeremy's been teaching me. I had yet to make good on that promise I made, but the simple fact that I had a chance to spent hours with him, laughing and skating and making fun of the other kids when they lost a skate battle to him was a blessing. It was a good excuse to leave the house with him and go off. Just him and I, our personalized skateboards and the skating park. I smiled to myself at the memory of how frustrated he got when I couldn't do a seemingly easy trick after the hundredth try. I swallowed a thick lump in my throat at the sight of the collage of events from back in the day. My standing on the wheeled board, me falling to the ground, me crying, dad coming over to help me up, Jeremy laughing when I failed again, mom picking him up and spinning him around in the air, and Elli chasing after me with her tiny fist up in the air. She looked angry in that one. It was a good day, but it passed, and if I didn't move right now, I might never.

So I ambled through the underground floor, looking over mom and dad's hard work in wonder. In the back of the basement, directly underneath where Elena's room was on the second floor, I found the room that must have been mine, passed the emptied mini bar and game station that housed table soccer, ping pong, and a pool table. The door was elegantly decorated, clearly by hand. There was no way a… door making… person or even a professional decorator could have done it. My mane was written in block capitals bright and bold and glittery and I cringed at the sight, taking a breath to mentally prepare for what I would see inside. I the door was already in silver glitters, I was afraid to turn the knob and peer inside. But I did, seeing as Elena was standing next to me. My hand on the cold metal, coated in brown paint, I relished in the cool kiss against my palm as I turned the knob and pushed the door open. My heart stopped and felt o the floor.

For a very long time, I couldn't make a move – I think I forgot how to move altogether. I just stood and stared, mouth fallen slack. "W-who…?" I managed after a good five minutes of taking in the sight. In my peripheral vision, I noted Elena smile.

"Caroline," was her one word answer. "I know the two of you don't see on one level, but you have to give credit where credit is due: she's good at what she does. And if she'd good at planning out, than you will only ever get the best of the best. She did her research," she informed me slyly, knowing that I was having a hard time believing a single word. Caroline did that? But… but hat girl was glitter and ribbons all over! She slept with her teddy bears from back when she was five! She was…. Not this! "Do you like it?" Elena asked, already knowing the answer I would give.

"I… I _love it_!" I screamed, lounging inside and leaping onto the bed in a good run. It bounced under my weight, one, twice, before settling down. I took its shaking moment to grab a handful of sheet and warp them around my and a safe cocoon, smiling into the fabric as I took a breath. It smelled so fresh, so _new_! It was _perfect_! A dozen pillows buried me as I settled down on the low mattress, cuddling into the bed as I looked up at the ceiling, examining the room better. The wall at my head was a collage of band posters – Bon Jovi, U2, Metallica, Thirty Seconds to Mars, Maroon 5, Nickelback, and a whole lot of others. The backboard was the upper half of a Transformer sized vinyl record, a bunch of real records lining the wall three feet above in a ribbon – not the entire wall, but just from one edge of the bed to the other.

To my right hung my electric guitar, directly over a drum set bedside table with a LED alarm clock on it. To the left was a wall covered in pages that had been torn out of a male underwear modelling magazine, showing off a wall-length poster of abs and sexy male faces. Keep Clams were plastered crookedly out of pattern here and there, making me smile to myself. There was a jet black string guitar stood in its stand next to the bed, three shelves in an upside down triangle lining the empty spaces. The two foot long glass boards were lined with books, framed prints of my digital art and check mark-shaped CD shelves completing the rock 'n roll retro look that Caroline had mastered better than I _ever_ had.

The top of the faded blue wall was lined with a silver lightning bolt. It wrapped in a ribbon around the room, zigzagging vertically every couple of feet, hugging the interior corner to corner. Across from the bed stood a large table with my laptop, tablet, stereo, boom box, iPod, and iPhone all on it. On the shelves adjacent to it was a stack of line paper, a binger, a box of pencils with a pencil case on top of it, a computer for school. The drawers held I know not what, but there was a light in the corner. The room was dim, lit by only four lights, on in each corner, just as I preferred it to be, and so very cozy in here. If I had the opportunity, I would never leave. Up above my bed, surrounding it in a perfect circle, was a demon trap, carved into the pain by an obviously tired, aching hand. I giggled like a moron to myself.

"By the way, we all put our money into this, but you own Caroline three hundred dollars." I barely heard Elena say anything. Her voice brought my back out of my admiration and I sat up, still wrapped in the blue and silver sheets like a candy, and waved her off.

"I'll give her _five_ hundred dollars for this; hell, I'll give her the damn Noble Prize for this, 'cause it's _perfect_! How did she know, though?" I asked, suddenly very curious as to how the girl knew how to decorate my room. Even I had trouble getting it just right – there was always a little detail out of place. Here, though, everything was just as I had dreamed for years. It was so _me_!

"Get your ass over here1" I command, jumping up to my knees and reaching for her arm. I yanked her onto the bed with me and she cried out her surprise, laughing at my childishness. I whipped my phone out of my pocket, flipping it on and selecting the camera icon before taking a few natural pictures of the two of us just being stupid and cat fighting. I took the upper hand easily, getting her on her back and began to mercilessly jab my fingers at her ribs, making her scream and squirm and struggle to hit me away from her. She was quickly turning red and purple and blue from the lack of oxygen and I gave her the entirety of five seconds to rest before starting my vicious assault again. I laughed as I didn't remember laughing before in a long time.

"Ok, ok: stop it!" She suddenly exclaimed, untangling from the sheets and me, and hurrying out of my bed. Elena straightened her hair and clothes and cleared her throat, composing herself. "We aren't kids anymore," was her only remark, before she left my room, leaving me asking myself, "Did…. that seriously just happen?" But of course, I shouldn't really be surprised: I was expecting this since I arrived. It was about time she regained her head and started treating me appropriately. Nevertheless, I climbed off the bed at record speed and hurried after her, catching up with her before she reached the stairs.

"No… Elli, wait!" I called out, grasping her wrist and forcing her to turn around and face me. I jerked her towards me demandingly, causing her hair to whip across my face and I recoiled from the brush of sort threads across my cheeks. "Why? Why do you have to always do this to me?" I demanded. "Why do you always have to turn away from me – what did I _do to you_?!" She glared and tor her hand from mine, staring my down with empowerment.

"We aren't children, Lennox. You can't spend the rest of your life acting like a big baby. I grew up. I think it's about time you did the same." The calm with which she said this only made her words stab my heart deeper. Grow up? Was that how she saw me: like a child? Just because I wanted to shut the world out and pretend it wasn't real suddenly made me an irresponsible baby? How could she say that?

"How dare you talk to me like that, Elena? I haven't been back for _five hours_, and this is the welcome I get? What did I do to deserve this? What _happened_ to you, Elli?" She was the one with pom-poms and girly giggles and friends that made no sense at the best of times. She was the one with pink and ponies and the rainbow. She was the one who talked to a notebook like it was a living person, and _I_ was the baby? What the hell was her _problem_?!

"What happened to me? You really want to know? Fine: I almost drowned; that's what happened. I almost died in the river and my mom and dad weren't so lucky. So why don't you chew on that while jump around on your bed like it's a trampoline." I had to curl my hand into a fist behind my back to resist the growing urge to slap her. Her words were an ice cold pale of water in my face and I shivered all over from the truth of them but wanted nothing more than to hate her in that moment.

"They were _my_ parents, too, Elena, and don't you _dare_ ever say the word 'my' again, when referring to them. Don't you think I don't feel guilty because of it?" I spat, my voice dripping in venom as I leaned in closer to make my point crystal clear.

"Oh what, you do? Because I didn't see you crying and being broken up about it. I hadn't heard you say a word about them and I didn't see you so much as consider paying your respects. You're the one who should think twice before saying anything, Lennox, because at least I can say I mourned. Can you? Or did you just hop into bed with the first guy you saw and drowned out your sorrows in a bottle of bear until you couldn't even remember why you were drinking?"

"Oh yeah? Is that how you want to play?" I spat venomously, my heart accelerating with every word coming from her mouth. "Well at least I didn't let my little brother start using!" I had smelled the remnants of a drug on earlier, when he tackled me in a startling amount of excitement. I could smell what was left of pills and they were sure as hell not Tylenol.

"No, you're right: you didn't. You weren't _here_ to make sure he wasn't using." She paused, letting the strike at my face sink into my heart before speaking. "You weren't here for anything." I stopped back, having been physically stricken by her words and my eyes almost fell out of my head in shock. She vanished upstairs before I could utter another word and I was left dumbfound and lost at the bottom on the long climb, staring at where she had been moment—minutes—hours ago. I swallowed against my tears and took a deep breath. Well… that was quite the, uh… expected homecoming. I certainly was waiting for her to snap and spill over the edge, but I didn't think it would _hurt_ this much. How could she say all of that to me? How could she think that?

She was even wrong about that the first thing I did was grab a bottle. I took two sleeping pills and died to the world for a good twelve hours. By the time I got the call from Elena, drowning in her own tears, I was dry for a month, having consumed not a sip of anything stronger than coffee for thirty seven days. I liked to have fun; I wasn't a damn _alcoholic_! The news only made my give up drinking for the rest of my life. After all, this was the very reason they sent me away. The least I could do is turn into a more or less model citizen who followed the law and handed in her homework on time. Why would she…?

I shook my head. I guess I deserved that. It sure wasn't unprovoked. She had every right and reason to say those things and the fact that they hurt, hearing them come from my very own twin sister only made them that much more powerful. But did she have to strike me so hard? Did she have to rub it in what a good daughter she was and what a disgrace I was made to be? I never meant to hurt anybody! I was young and I was stupid and I didn't understand responsibility until it was forced on me. I never meant for any of this!

In my room, I unpacked my things, put a CD into my player and rung my headphones around my neck as I picked out The Lord of the Rings from my bookcase – I'd read it thrice already. I shortly found myself on the living room couch downstairs, legs crossed with music in my ears and a book about elves and magic rings and swords at my nose. Jeremy materialized next to me, lying on his back with his head in my lap and I read out loud from the start. He mumbled about remembering how we did this back in the good old days, only with mom in my place, and Elli in his.

"So… how did you know? About the drugs, I mean?" I paused in my reading and looked down at my little brother, seeing him for the first time – really _seeing_ him: how much he'd grown, the kind of man he became. With his new looks, girl should be lining up at the front door just to look at him. His shaggy hair was up in spikes like a porcupine and his too large sweater hid what I knew for sure were growing muscles of an athlete. He didn't sit on his ass the entire time I was gone. His brown eyes were darker than the last time I saw him in persona and he had clearly began growing facial hair.

"I doubt that's how Advil smells like. You need to do a better job brushing your teeth if you want to get rid of graphic evidence. And by the way, one that I'm back, there'll be no more of that. Got it, mister? I don't want to have to send you to Charlie so he can coach you into fixing your life. So do me a favour and don't put me in a position where I have to fix you," I scolded before going back to the book that I had oh so carelessly dropped on his face. "Now stop talking and listen, or I'll have to start from the first page again."

"Ay, ay, Captain," he mumbled to himself sarcastically and I smacked his chest playfully. "Ok, fine: Yes, _Sir_; I will shut up now, _Sir_." I shook my head. I wished he never grew up.

* * *

School is too frigging _early_. What is _wrong_ with the people that invented our public school system? It's like seven in the morning! I flipped Elena off, shoving her away from my and rolled over to the other side, facing away from her and reached for the blanket that was nowhere to be found. "Gimmi m'blanket, bhack…" I mumbled, burying my head in my hands.

"Don't make me fetch The Bucket," she threatened her voice hard and warning. I half rolled onto my back, twisting at the torso, and peeked at her between stick lids. The woman was a confusing blur and brown and purple and red. "You slept through the day and into the night. Then you went upstairs to get a sleeping pill to put yourself back to sleep for another five hours. I'm pretty sure you've slept enough. Get up. Now. Or so help me: you're going to school soaked." I groaned me displeasure but knew she was not kidding. She _would_ bring The Bucket if I didn't bet up. But I didn't want to go to school. It was full of people who'd known me my whole life – people who knew the humiliating things, the stupid things, the terrible things, the bitchy things… all things, basically. My free pass was done and I had to face the same teachers, the same classmates, the same neighbors, the same… everything. Everyone knew when and where I messed up and everyone would throw me a pity party. Everyone would look down at me like I was beneath them and everyone would patronize me like I was some challenged freak of nature. I knew exactly what to expect, and I was ready to die of misery. School sucked.

Today I would have to answer stupid questions and deal with stupid people, and everyone will expect me to be some broken, emotional wreck and I don't know if I can keep from flipping out at everyone and hurting someone. It'll just be… sad – pathetic. I'll be sad and pathetic. But I won't be like my sister dearest, who will smile and say she's fine, just because that's what everyone wants to hear. I won't be like her and tell them that everything is fine because they couldn't give a crap about me. I'll just get up right now, go to the bathroom and smile. And that smile will be real, because reality had yet to catch up with me and I had yet to really understand what had happened. I had yet to stop waiting for mom to come downstairs and drag me out of bed ten minutes before school starts.

So I did just that: I crawled out of bed and head to the bathroom, flipping the light up as I entered. I stopped and the mirror and combed my hair with tan fingers, distributing the I-just-crawled-out-of-bed mess until it actually looked good. And then I looked at the girl in the mirror and smiled at her, a warm, kind smile, and everything was ok. Mom was at work and dad was sleeping after a night shift, and Elena was getting Jeremy ready for school, just as always. Everything was just as it always was. I felt good. I feel whole. Back in my room, I plugged a cassette into the boom box and danced wildly with the volume at full blast, singing along to Walking on Sunshine as I bounce up and down, lost to the music.

First shirt my hand reached in hand, I closed my eyes and randomly pick out a pair of pants and shoes and hopped into my school clothes. Black jeans, holes in the knees, a mahogany cotton shirt with medium sleeved and a jean vest to accompany bright red All Stars – just like the Tenth Doctor, I mused with a smile, fishing out an electric blue extension out of my extension box and pinned it at the front of my hair. I worked it into my hair to make it look more natural and I dance upstairs, shouting "I'm walking on sunshine, oh-ho! I'm walking on sunshine, oh-ho!" Handing packed schoolbag hanging on my shoulder lazily, I fastened a braided infinity bracelet around my free wrist. That is good enough for the first day back.

I swayed from side to side in my Man Walk, swinging my arms back and forth at my sides, and grinning madly. "Moring to you, too!" I called out with a grin, hopping up on the counter and snatching Jeremy's cup of coffee with a sly "Thank _you_." My voice raised in octave at 'you'. He gave me the "What the hell?" face, which I successfully waved off dismissively. I tore open four bags of sugar and emptied them into my cut. I jerked my head side to side it tune with the music in my head. "I'm walking on sunshiny, and it's time to feel _good_!" Jenna laughed, passing me the open jug of milk and I fill my cup to the rim, quickly taking a sip of my brother coffee before it can spill all over my school cloths.

"What's got you in a mood this morning?" All three bodied in the kitchen turn to me with an expecting face and I just shrug, a smile tugging at my lips. "I don't know," I tell them honestly, "I just kind of feel… _good_." They each raise one or both eyebrows at me and I shrug again, taking a long sip of hot coffee but didn't flinch away at the heat. "I don't know how to describe it. I just… first day of school, it's morning, I woke up late, I don't have my own ride until next week, and since Elena let me sleep through yesterday evening, I am now obligated to come to the bonfire tonight. All these bad things just come together to make… life, you know? It's just… normal again."

Twin, aunt, and kid brother all stared at me like I've lost my mind – like I was dancing on a grave – and I gave them The Look; the one that said "Don't you get started," the one that said "Bitch, please," the one that said "Please play along, because I don't know if I can smile if you keep talking about this, and I really don't want to start off my first day back in school as an emotional train wreck." It was a hard look to master, a look I had spent days upon days in front of a mirror trying to get just right.

"Whatever keeps your boat afloat," Jenna remarked, rolling her eyes at me. I waved her off with a chill smile. She leaves us in a hurry and we stay at home for another little while, making extremely awkward small talk of "So…" I watched Jeremy hustle around the kitchen for a breakfast and handed him a half drunk cup of his coffee, letting him eat the toast that was originally in the toaster for me. And since when did he become so tall? Last I saw him he had at least half a foot to go before he caught up to me. Now I was sitting up on the countertop and he was towering at least five inches overhead.

"Growth spurt much?" I mumbled as I grabbed a biscuit from Elena, nodding my thanks distantly as I looked my kid brother up and down, realizing there wasn't much room left for the 'little' in 'little brother.' He gave me a confused "Huh?" as he looked up from his cup. "Growth spurt much?!" I repeated, this time a whole lot louder, my voice borderlining a shout. "When did you start packing yourself with the growth hormone?" I joke, hoping to heaven that it really was a joke, and not some twisted reality that I was not yet made aware of. But Jeremy just shrugged.

"I donno… but it's me the one who has to buy a new pair of pants every month," he groaned in frustration, looking down at his feet in anger. I almost laugh. Yeah, it isn't fun to spring up like a mushroom on a hot day after a summer rain. Nothing fits, your feet are too big, you keep tripping over everything because you aren't used to your body's sudden increase in size… I'd rather has stayed five feet tall than have to go through wearing my mom's old clothes to save money on something that I would outgrow the month after anyway.

"And speaking of steroid induced growth: what did I miss? Anything you guys missed telling me over Skype?" I asked, suddenly realizing that there was probably a hell of a lot of things that I needed to catch up with. I mean I did arrive home and had to go to school the next day. I'm bound to be behind on the latest gossip.

"Matt and I broke up," Elena told me, looking down at her hands, suddenly very put out. I frown. Matt? Who's Matt? I asked her this, and she gave me the "Are you serious?" look. "Matt? The… guy that busted you for underage drinking back in ninth grade? Matthew Donavan? Brother of your drinking besty?" Elena said, trying to jog my memory. I remembered the unmanly blonde with the underage drinking reminder. I gave her a look, telling her that I didn't need her to keep embarrassing me further by going over my mistakes and why it is that I'm a disgrace to the family. Maybe if I were born into Matt's family, I would have a free pass with drinking and sleeping around. But I was a Gilbert; I had no tight to do any of what I had been doing so often. I had to be the picture of etiquette and poise and perfection. I had to glow and shine and be '_The_' at everything I did. Just like my dearest sister, who excelled in _every aspect of life_, even when she messed up! Sometimes I really hated being a Gilbert. I loved my family, but not when they do and say things like what Elena just said.

I mean, I'm a failure; I get it. But did she have to rub it in that I screwed up so much? It was bad _enough_ as it were.

"You dated Matt?" I asked, confused. I mean I'd seen him around a bit, and when I hung out with Vicki, he was always there to ruin my buzz and dump out booze down the drain. But he was a sweet kid. Unmanly blonde, yes, but sweet. "I didn't know you dated in the _first place_," I informed her, my word muffled by the cookie in my mouth. Elena just scoffed.

"You were the one who busted us in the girl's bathroom." I backtracked, searching through my memory of who it was that I caught in the girl's bathroom – I walked in on a lot of people; it was kind of hard to keep track.

"I _did_?"

"Yes; you even told me – and I quote – "_Ooh… girl, you are _so_ busted!_" It was humiliating!" I rolled my eyes at her, dismissing it with a distant wave. "Wow, hey… where are you going?" Elena suddenly cut in, before I can open my mouth with a semi-cleaver comeback, drawing my attention back to a rather uncomfortable Jeremy, who had talked his half empty cup of coffee and was walking off.

"Away," was his one word, hollow answer. My face fell at his sudden mood.

"Are… you ok?" the brunette asked, noticing our kid brother's drowned expression. I mean not _drowned,_ drowned; but, like… really sad and down and blue. He turned around and gave her one of his "leave me alone," faces, telling her off with a "Don't start." I bit my lip, but beyond the sympathy I felt for him, I also recognized his lost, distant behavior as something I myself had displayed many time before. He vanished around the corner and I hopped off the counter, angrily marching after him. Oh _no_ he didn't! I caught up with him on his way upstairs, grabbing his arm forcefully and turning him to face me. I swipe my hand back and forth in front of his face and it takes him a few seconds extra to react and draw back. Great: it's seven-something in the morning and this is the welcome home surprise I get: my baby brother is following in my footsteps.

"For real, Jer? I mean I'm no angle, but you can do a better job hiding from a used-to-be alcohol junky," I hissed at him between grit teeth, exaggerating the alcohol part quite a bit. There was certainly a time in my life when a bottle was my best friend, but after a very vivid incident, I dropped the idea altogether. "What did I tell you yesterday?"

"Oh you are the _last_ person to lecture me about drinking," he spat, making me flinch. I felt like I was slapped in the face at his words, but bit back a rising insult.

"I _know_ I'm not; I'm not lecturing you. I know that I don't have a right to tell you not to drink, but I _am_ going to tell you that if Elena catches you, I'm siding with her on whatever it is she feels necessary to do to you, because you are heading to school on a hangover, and if _they_ bust you, then what kind of message is that going to sent, huh? I _just got back_ for the first day of school and my kid brother is drinking? They'll send me away again and I _do not_ want to spend another two years away, just so that they can re-educate _you_," I snap, jabbing my index finger into the middle of his chest in scolding, then slap him lightly. "Sober up, and _God forbid_ you let me catch you again." Through the roof hypocritical, yes, but he was my little brother. It was basically my job description to do things that he was not allowed to even _think_ about, and then kick him in the ass for doing it anyway.

He swatted my hand away in annoyance, muttering under his breath something I couldn't make out as he headed upstairs to his room, drinking away at his coffee. I watched as he shut the door, vanishing from sight in the privacy of his room. Great, I was back for some twenty seven hours and I was a stranger with no Big Sister rights. I was falling at life before it had a chance to really begin again.

"What's wrong?" Elena's voice brought me out of my miserable musing and I turned to look down at her from half way up the stairs.

"Just… for clarification," I begin, rising a finger at her as I slowly start to stomp my way down one stair… another… than a third… "Were… you made aware of Jeremy's coping methods?" She sucked in a tight breath, pressing her lips into a tight line and nodded reluctantly, negligently.

"He's been… diving into your, um…" She paused, the settled with the word, "Lifestyle." I pressed my lips into a thin, disappointed line.

"Head on, I take," I remark, not sure whether I was upset that he followed my lowlife example, angry that he did so, and shocked at that I was not informed sooner. She had to tell me this; it was her _responsibility_ to tell me this, be it in person, as soon as I walked through that door, or over web chat, or on a God damned _text message_. I was the one who had provided the example of what _not_ to do; I was the one who was bad company for a thirteen year old Jeremy when the drinking really started hard core, with me getting wasted and breaking the law once every few months. I was the one who showed him an easy escape that provided both an anesthetic and a rush – a promise of a good time. I'm the one who introduced his innocent little mind to how to get the blood flowing and how to really get the ecstasy pleasure out of daily life without of risking it in a stupid attempt to feel live and on top of the world. I was the one who sent him down this path in the first place; I'm the one who has to drag him out by the hair.

Elena was picked up by Bonnie, her best friends since preschool, fifteen minutes later. When she saw me, she rushed to hug me and welcome me home like we were best friends, too. I declined her offer of a ride, politely telling her that I will be walking. I was consuming junk food by the truckload as of late, and my thighs, waist and upper arms were paying the price. I needed to bring the weight down; otherwise it wouldn't be long before I will have outgrown my jeans at the hips. She had also asked me how I was doing, to which I smiled and said "I don't know; you tell me." I walked to school, headphones blocking out the world, and ran into firs period Gym on the bell, just barely making it on time by four seconds. The gym coach scoffed, not liking my presence very much, but the rest of the class was less reluctant to accept me into group. A choir of "Lennox is back!" rang through the room as a good fifty percent of the class rushed to great me back to school.

I may not have been the most popular, but I hung out with the It girls all the time, so by high school law, I was the sole heiress to Elena's fame and worshipers. It was good to be recognized in my new style, and when I smiled at everyone, telling that I was great and how much I missed being back, it was all honest to God truth. My smile was genuine and so were my words and for a very long hour of Gym class, I felt accepted. The real trouble began when first period Gym was over and I was on a spare, having an hour to waste before third period Geo. I looked over my two day, alternating schedule and found the one subject I wanted most… missing.

"Why don't I have ACS?" I demanded, slapping my schedule down on the desk of the attendance office. "I specifically asked – personally, over the phone, that I would be accepted into ACS. So why didn't I see it here?" The secretary told me to calm down and tried to explain to me that all the seats were full. I had none of that nonsense. "Are you telling me that both semesters are filled to the top with computer junkies who know more about computers than the Advanced Computer Science teacher? Is that what I'm hearing? Because I signed up for this course way back in the first semester of last year, to ensure that I got a spot. So where is my spot, eh? I'm not leaving this office until you put ACS on my schedule," I said sternly, looking down at her. The blonde got into a lecture about respect that I successfully ignored, before sending me away, telling me that she would notify me if a stop opened.

"Notify me, my ass. I could as well have been the first one to sign up! I've been in Computer Science since middle school. _Do not_ tell me that I'm unqualified for the course." She orders me to leave her office immediately unless I want to be suspended and I regretfully comply, not uttering an apology even if she deserved one. But as I left the office, the door closing behind me to reveal a generally empty hallway, I walked face first into a rock hard chest of who was clearly an athlete. My hands came up to protect my nose and I stumbled back, blinking rapidly in surprise.

"Oof… would you _watch_ where you're _go_…" I trailed off as I looked up. My words died in my throat and I couldn't but stare for a little, my eyebrows slowly escaping into my hairline. "Oh… Wow," was all I could muster for several seconds. And then, "Ooh; cute." The man before me gave me a polite smile, bowing his head a little.

"Flattered," he told me softly, quietly and I grinned up at his rather very attractive face, mouthing the word 'Yum' to myself. Then he doubled back, looking at my face for a moment, and asked, "You don't happen to be related to one Elena Gilbert, would you?"

"Oh, so I see you've had time to meet my sister," I say, a little disappointed that she was the first one of us he'd met. Maybe if he met me first, for once she would be expected to live up to _my_ name. Alas, I was out of luck. "Yup, we're twins; I'm Lennox, by the way," I said, stepping back and awkwardly extending a hand for him to shake. Given the small distance between us, my arms wasn't really extended at all, but rather pressed to my body and my wrist reached out all of six inches from my abdomen. I fixed my falling bag back over my shoulder, saving its content from spilling on the floor. I was a little mess, a little smelly from gym, and plenty of turned on. Not the best impression I wanted to make, but it would suffice for now. At least he met _me_, not some tight, forced impression of sister dearest.

"I'm Stefan," he introduce, taking my hand in his. "Stefan Salvatore. It's a pleasure to meet you," he smiled, making me smile in return. He had one of _those_ smiles: the ones you couldn't really help but mirror. "I heard word of a party in your honor tonight. At the bonfire?" I shook my head at the absurdity, giving him a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"It's… not in my honor," I told him, explaining it further, still with a smile glued to my face. "It's a back to school thing, but The Caroline Forbes decided that I needed to be the guess of honor. I'd been away for a while, and when I finally came back, half the town groaned their distaste while the other fifty percent celebrated cheerfully. And The Caroline Forbes figure the fire would be a great time to both celebrate my return and humiliate me."

"_The_ Caroline Forbes? I didn't know there was more than one," he joked, sidestepping me and staring to amble forward, towards the Science hallway to the right of the attendance office. I followed his inviting hand, bowing my head in a weak mocking curtsey. I snorted and rolled my eyes, shaking my head a fraction.

"No she… doesn't order herself in a line, from least, to most important. She's just… a diva. She's one of those people who you just love to hate, but at the same time can't bring yourself to keep your eyes dry when she gets hurt in one way or another. She's full of herself a lot of times, but she could be the best friend ever. If you hadn't met her yet, I'm user you will before lunch. She's going to start planning your wedding."

His eyebrows shot up but Stefan laughed heartly. "Is that so?"

"Yup; you might not have met her yet, but by now she probably knows your fluorite color, what with how attractive you are. She won't advance you today. Well, not in school, at least. At the bonfire, though… I would mentally prepare myself if I were you. Nevertheless, she's still adorable. You'll either love her or hate her, but there's no way you'll be able to resist her Bambi eyes," I warned, looking up at him a good seven or eight inches until I made eye contact. We walked slowly down the hall, passing one class, another, then the Library and I veered off our path, slipping past into towards the closed door and forced it open. It wheezed as I pulled the handle, revealing the brightly lit, bookshelf-lined room with rows of tables for working. It was occupied by six or seven people and I rushed to the front desk to sign in, taking the moment to write down Stefan's name as well, seeing as he came in after me.

"So how about my sister dearest, eh? You new here? Were you here last year or did you just move here? Where did you two meet?" I bombarded him with questions, asking the next before I could really finish the last and he held up his hands as though to tell me 'Wow, slow down there.'

"I… my family lived in Mystic Falls for a while. I was born here, but I had to move away a while ago. I came back for highschool," he admitted. "Your sister and I… walked into each other. Much like you and I, actually, only she was less prone to making small talk and rushed off the class. We have history together, too." I raised my brow at the double meaning, but nodded my understanding as I lead him away to one of the bookshelves, scanning each row up down and across as I looked for the book I wanted to sign out.

"Nice. How's the impression?"

"She seems very nice. I don't know her well but I have to admit I want to. Get to know her, I mean," he clarified and I nodded again, this time arching a brow, impressed with how subtly forward he was about his intentions for Elli.

"And the fact that she has a twin doesn't faze you at all? Looking at someone who's her mirror image?" To my surprise, he shook his head, no.

"You and she are about as far from a mirror image as you and I – as you had so clearly tried to stress," he told me, motioning at me up and down with his hand. "Or did you think that because you share a face I would be one of _those guys_, who think that if they can have one, they will have the other?" He sounded a little hurt, disappointment clear in his eyes and I cringed away, wincing at his wounded tone. I shook my head.

"No I… I was just thinking that… you know, since you met one then… then you figured you met both," I admitted, not even ashamed anymore. It was the norm by now. He looked at me for a second, realization of my implication sinking in and then he chuckled. He _chuckled_.

"Lennox, there is only one of you. Just because you look like someone, doesn't mean you _are_ that person. Elena is Elena, and you are you; and nothing will ever change that. Not as long as you don't let it." I stared at him with wide eye, trying to make sense of his words for the longest moment and then I was resisting the urge to hug this stranger that I walked face first into all of six minutes ago. I felt my eyes get wetter but I forbade them to become teary. I wanted to ask him if he really thought that or if he was just saying that. I met him six minutes ago and he was already tilling me something no one had ever told me before: I was my own, unique person.

"Are you alright?" he asked when I didn't say a word for what could as well have been hours for all I knew.

"Yeah, I… what you just said… it means a lot to me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you really think that. You haven't a clue how hard it is to carve out an identity, what with being an identical twin so… so think you, for understanding that. I really appreciate it." He placed a reassuring – and rather heavy – hand on my shoulder and gave me a kind, meaningful smile.

"You don't have to live up to anybody's expectations. You're your own person and you don't need to prove yourself to anyone; you just have to know it yourself." And just like that, on the first day back at school, I made the friend of a lifetime.

* * *

**And there you have it: twelve pages on a word document and ten thousand words. I wanted to split it in two, but decided against it because half was too short and I couldn't find a good place to separate the chapter. So now you get ten thousand words of good reading. Again, not much going on, but have you ever heard of the phrase "the clam before the storm"? No, better: have you ever heard of the phrase "winter is coming"? So what do you think? How do you see this? How do you see Lennox as a character? In this chapter it is made clear that while she loves her family, it is quickly falling apart. I will explain in the future chapter why that is, and we will see plenty of family ties develop and grow and change and interesting ways. This is The Vampire Diaries, guys; there are no such things as happy endings.**

**Also, let's settle this in the first few chapters: I want to know what you guys want to see in here, so I as open to any and all suggestions and ideas, but I will also ask you this: ****Would you like to see an OC pairing in here?**** Please tell me, because unless you let me know, I will just roll with my original plan, and you won't have a say in it.**

***Please answer that question alone. No specifics, not elaboration. A simple 'yes' or 'no'. And a reason, if you like to give one.**

**Plus****: this chapter is not beta-ed, so please forgive any mistakes. I tried to smoke them out and terminate them with extreme prejudice, but reading over your own work is a pain in the ARE a beta and would like to beta read this, please let me know via review or PM!**

**Review; be the change!**


End file.
